Remembering Twinky

     Twinky, my beloved cat for fifteen years, passed away at home on Monday, October 25. The vet and vet tech came to the house, and they were wonderful, giving Twinky a shot first to sedate her before the second, final shot, was administered. She died in my arms, wrapped in a blanket. Her body was taken away to  be cremated and returned to me. I had agonized over the decision to end Twinky's life that day. She was still eating, but the fluid in her abdominal cavity--after having been drained once the previous week--was building up again. The vet said that, for it to build up again so fast, the situation inside her must be very bad. So I decided to let Twinky go while she was still relatively comfortable and not in any pain. Would that it could be this simple for humans.

     Twinky was with me through four major relationships, one of them a marriage, and five relocations, four within Colorado and the last one out here to Pismo Beach. She knew the moment I got into bed and would come into the bedroom, jump up on the bed, and sleep nestled up against my hair. Being blind for the last five years didn't daunt her a bit.


Twinky resting on one of her final days




Enjoying the sunshine





Little Dude keeps her company

           I feel that twice I almost lost Twinky and twice God returned her to  me. The first time was when, as her foster mom, I foolishly decided to put her up for adoption, thinking that I should adopt an older cat more in need of a home. When I realized I had made the wrong decision, I hurried down to the Boulder Valley Humane Society, only to find a couple in the process of adopting Twinky. I was devastated. I remember sobbing all the way home in my car, saying "I'm so sorry", both to Twinky and to myself, for having been so oblivious to how much I wanted her in my life.     That was on a Friday. On Monday I called the BVHS to tell them they needed to remind Twinky's new people that she needed to continue her medication for the  infection that had already cost her an eye. To my amazement, the woman said, "But she's still here. The adoption didn't go through." Needless to say, I rushed back to Boulder and adopted Twinky, so grateful that I (and she) had been given a second chance.     The second time I thought I'd lost Twinky was one of the most painful episodes of my life. I was married and my husband and I had decided to spend part of the summer in Michigan, even though we'd just moved into a new home in Mead, CO. The cats were in the habit of going outside, so I insisted to the petsitter that they be allowed to go out, even though they were now in a new neighborhood with an unfamiliar person coming to feed them. That decision was completely misguided and unthinking on my part and I have regretted it bitterly. I would never leave any animal alone in new surroundings now or allow it access to the outdoors for at least a month.     Within a couple of weeks, I found out that Twinky and another of my cats, Puppy, had disappeared. I flew back to CO to search. I started sleeping out on the back steps in case one or both of them came home in the night. I remember waking up and hearing Twinky meow. She was standing right there. Before that moment, whenever I'd heard or read of somebody who'd pinched themselves to see if they were dreaming, I'd thought it sounded silly. How could anyone not know if they were awake or asleep? But at that moment, I honestly wasn't sure. I just remember thinking that if this was a dream, if I woke up and Twinky was not really there, I would die. So I dug my nails into my arm and I picked Twinky up and she was real.     The joy of being reunited with Twinky was, of course, only matched by the guilt and grief I also felt over Puppy, who never came home. I don't know if he and Twinky left together or separately, or if Twinky went with him on some journey that only she was able to return from. But once again, I felt that God had given her back to me.     I have been blessed and privileged to have Twinky in my life. When I walk in the front door, I still find myself looking at the spot on the sofa where she would invariably be sitting. When I call "treat time" I still expect her to be the first to show up. Knowing this will never happen again leaves a great emptiness. The house doesn't feel right without her, and I wonder if the other cats are aware of her absence. She was a beautiful, sweet soul and will be terribly missed.

Birth and Death

        I've been writing about the addition of a new kitty to the family, Little Dude from up on the Mesa, who is about 3 months old now, full of life and energy.

        Sadly, at the same time that a new little one has come into my household, another life--that of my beloved cat Twinky--is fading out. Twinky is about 15 years old now, which the vet said is about the average life expectancy for a cat. She has been through a lot of adventures in her life, and I'll write about that later. But right now, Twinky is dying and it's my job to find the right moment--not too soon, not too late--to help her make her exit from this world.

        Back in August, when she went in for a check-up, the vet noticed she'd lost a couple of pounds. Since Twinky loves to eat and has been on the chunky side for years, this did not seem altogether bad. Except there was no explanation for the weight loss. The vet did an ultra-sound and determined that her spleen looked abnormal, so another test was done, something called a fine needle aspiration, where a few cells are removed from the spleen via an ultra-thin needle. This last test showed cancer.  At the same time, other things were looking bad--like many elder cats, Twinky has kidney and digestive tract issues.

       Twinky is also blind. She lost one eye to infection as a young kitten--that's how I came to be fostering her for the Boulder Valley Humane Society in Boulder, CO--and lost the second eye to glaucoma, caused by undiagnosed high blood pressure about 5 years ago. She's adapted wonderfully to her blindness, gets around the house and the fence-in backyard just fine. But because of her blindness, a trip to the vet is even more stressful and frightening for Twinky than most cats. I did not want to continue with invasive procedures, such as having her spleen removed. Also, I have gone down this road with several cats and two dogs, and I truly did not think removal of the spleen would save Twink's life or prolong it.

      All this was maybe a month ago. Since then, I've been giving Twink whatever she wants in the way of treats and canned food and she has seemed fairly normal, although clearly losing more weight. Then a few days ago, things changed. I noticed her sides seemed to be swelling out and knew, from past experience, that this might mean fluid retention.

      I had a hard decision to make. This morning, early, I'm going to do my best to get Twinky to take a small dose of kitty valium hidden in wet food. I don't know if she'll take it--cats are very sensitive to something in their food--but I will do my best. Then an hour later, I'm doing what I'd hoped I wouldn't have to do--taking her back to the vet to see if they can drain off this extra fluid and make her more comfortable. Due to her blindness, Twink hates and fears trips to the vet more than most cats. I have to weigh the benefits of her seeing the vet versus the stress of making the trip.

      I've been with many animals during their dying process and I will be with Twink up to the end of hers. I've already arranged with the vet to come to the house when the time comes. At least that way Twinky can be in her familiar, comfortable surroundings.

      Watching an animal die, especially one who is so loved, is excruciating. Knowing when the time has come is a heart-wrenching decision.

      I have a friend who once told me she felt she waited too long to let go of one of her animals. Now she says, like a mantra, "Better to be an hour too early than a minute too late." I agree. I don't know if today will be the day--I hope not and I don't think it will, I think Twink will come home. But I really don't know what the vet will say about her condition. If the fluid retention turns out to be blood instead of water, then that would mean something else.

      In the meantime, I can only do my best to make the right decisions on behalf of this wonderful, loving soul.



Twink lounging at home



Perched in a cat tree



Twink, 'the Lioness'

       

The Little Dude Finds a Home!

      A while back, I wrote about picking up a kitten from the Mesa area, that part of Arroyo Grande that seems to be teaming with kittens and cats. This one had been caught by a homeowner. She put him in a carrier on her porch and I swung by and got him. He's the one I called the Little Dude. As the weeks have gone by, Little Dude has become more and more a part of my family, learning the ins and outs of household life here. Due to one thing or another, he also has kept missing opportunities to go to the Adopt-a-pet, which is where Feline Network kittens go to find a home after they've been spay/neutered. One week the Dudester's eye was watery and he needed to see the vet. Another week, he seemed to be walking oddly.

       Now the Little Dude is walking much better and could probably go to the Adopt-a-pet, but he's been here too long at this point--I can't limagine my home without him.



The Little Dude loves playing
with his toy mice





Taking time out at the bottom
 of the cat tree

 

















    
     In the meantime, the Dude's half-sister has moved in next door with my wonderful neighbors Debbie and Jeff.   She has become best friends with their American bulldog Bodhi. Originally called Little Squeak, she is now known as Little Squeak Be Jammin'.    Little Squeak has the energy of an entire litter of kittens, racing from room to room, teasing Bodhi, even playing on the trampoline.   Her personality is completely opposite from that of the Little Dude's.   The Dude is shy, quiet, contemplative, a very sweet little soul who got off to a difficult start in life.   Hopefully from now on, things will be so much better!

Beanie in New York

This is Beanie and his little friend Snuffles the bear...plus Nala, Moosie, and tiny black Phoebe.

New York visit

I'm in New York for a few days, visiting my friend Joan and her cats Nala, Beanie, Phoebe, and Mr. Moose. More to come...pix and adventures!